Darkness envelops and lulls, giving a pleasant, placatory feeling and a feeling of protectability. Bathing in the waves of the calm, the young man can’t say at what moment the feeling of all-encompassing pleasure has gone away.

 At first he has a vague feeling that something has subtly changed, and then he probably rather feels than sees that darkness begins to lose its saturation and density little by little. On the periphery of the vision, he has noticed how the slightly visible contours of something begin to slowly come through it, but as soon as the young man tries to look closely, darkness immediately reappears its opacity and density.

Than this has repeated again and again…The withdrawal of darkness resembles the surf, which first rolls in a warm wave,  absorbing  everything, even the slightest glare of light, then it backs off, gradually dissipating more and more each time, allowing to see more and farther through it.

This allows one to gradually examine the outlines of the objects in the room; also, at some point, the young man is able to understand that he himself is in it. As soon as he comes to understanding where he is, darkness doesn’t return as usual but, on the contrary, continues to retreat, dissolving in the dim light of the room.

Now nothing prevents him from looking around and more closely look at the room in which he has suddenly appeared.

The small workroom, a classic desk located almost in the middle of the room, behind which a man now is sitting and working.

Why haven’t I seen him? Or will it be more correct to ask – why?

He has short, dark hair with a streak of gray, which contrasts with his appearance. Expensive, tailor-made clothes add an accent and add fineness and elegance to his lean figure. And as in contrast with it, man’s hair sticks out in all directions as a grubby stack.

What is on his foot? Simple slippers?  Pshaw …

And what’s wrong with the slippers? He’s at home.

 The emotional indignation of the young man that has flared is sharply replaced by the calmness that has come from somewhere outside, and he, having forgotten about the slippers of the man sitting behind the table, continues the examination of the room.

 Along the walls, along the perimeter, book shelves are located, and that’s why there are no windows in the office. The light in this room comes from the charmed ceiling.

But why and how do I know that the lighting changes at the wish of the owner? Also, what does it mean that the ceiling is charmed? Is this some kind of a joke?

Mmm, yes! And somehow I already know what it means to enchant.

Questions, questions…they appear and immediately disappear without being caught. And so, swimming between the dream and reality, the young man, using incredible efforts, still tries to understand - maybe to remember who this man standing in front of him is.

And why does this man look vaguely familiar to me, though I absolutely can’t remember neither who he is nor who I am myself? My memory is silent, and what about the feelings? I’ve listened to my inner voice, and the feelings are also silent. Who is this man? And who am I?

He’s a mage.

But do mages exist?

They do!

It’s weird, but it’s okay. Then I’ve such a question: who is this mage, and why am I looking at him?

It’s a memory!

Whose memory? And who’s answering me?

It doesn’t matter. Gradually, you’ll sort it out on your own.

The young man has been distracted from the internal dialogue by a pop, and he stares in amazement at the creature that appeared from the air, which has bowed, and says,

«Master Harry! The second master, Lord Prince, has arrived! He’s asked me to know when you’ll be able to receive him.»

«Where’s Lord Prince now», a faint smile has stirred the man’s lips, «and what’s he doing? »

«Lord Prince now is in his private rooms; he is getting cleaned up after the journey, and then he’s asked me to bring him something to eat!», having puffed out its chest with pride, proclaims this creature.

This is not a creature; it’s a house elf.

Why does everything seem to me at the same time that this is the right house elf and, in parallel, there’s a feeling that elves should be another? I don’t understand!

I don’t like him; he’s a bit disgusting.

And that’s all that bothers you?

Yes. And why should I concern myself with the fact that this is a right elf or not?

Ok.

Having distracted from thoughts about elves, the young man misses what the man has said and also hasn’t seen when the elf disappears.

Also, the young man is surprised that until he hasn’t seen the eyes of the man, it seems he’s quite young, but when during the talk with the elf the young man has looked into his bright green eyes, he doubts this because these are the eyes of the person who has grown wise with experience and knowledge that have appeared because of hardships in his past.

And here again, how do I know that he has hardships?

Calm down and don’t worry about this. Why are you tense, is this that elf or not? Has this scumbag passed the hardships or not? Enjoy it while you can; that’s all.

Your attitude towards life is impressive.

Of course!

Something tells me that’s not good when a person speaks with himself like I do now.

Humph …

The man named Harry continues to work after the elf’s disappearance, and that’s why the young man soon becomes bored; he wants to see the books on the shelves, and he immediately appears near them.

How has it happened? How can I move like this?

Again, the knowledge has come that mages can move in memories.

Ah, from this statement, it follows that I am a mage? How can this be?

I don’t want to be a mage! Because it may result in trouble, and I don’t like trouble!

Calm down; I’ve understood your view of life.

Unlike yours, I have the right view of life! And why are you the boss, not me? This is my body, and I should be in charge here.

But do you know exactly if this is your body?

I feel it! Also, I feel that you shouldn’t be here; you’re an outsider.

I can agree that this body is yours, but I can’t agree with the statement that I’m the outsider.

Bastard…I’ll kill you…

And when the young man is going to be absorbed by the next hysterics, he is again enveloped by the strange calmness, and he almost indifferently thinks.

Since I’m a mage and the man sitting behind the table is also a mage, maybe he is me? But I don’t feel kinship with him!

Come on, I’m not him; I don’t agree with this; I don’t like him! Besides, I don’t like everything, and I also don’t like memories!

Here we go again! What a baby talk? Is there anything you like?

I like it only when people don’t bother me and don’t pest me; I feel this.

Oh! It seems I definitely have a double personality.

Meanwhile, Harry gets up, stands, and waves his hand towards the bookshelves. The simple wave of the hand and two shelves move off the wall and then drive away in different directions, opening a glass folding-sided door leading to a recessed balcony.

What is happening distracts the young man from further brabbles with himself.

Has he made magic right now? Or are there such sensors that react to the special wave of the hand?

But I like it- one wave of the hand and everything is done!

 I agree with you! Well, I’ve changed my mind; I want to be a mage!

Hmm, and how many times will you change your mind?

I’ll change it as long as it takes!

Ok, ok, it’s your right. Probably.

What do you mean, probably? It’s my right, and that’s it.

Meanwhile, Harry has fully opened both halves of the doors, and standing in the doorway, he takes a full breath of the fresh air filled with a subtle flower fragrance. Having stood like that for a while, he goes into the loggia and sits in one of two armchairs standing in the loggia near a small table.

«Twinkie!»

Like an invisible shadow, the young man follows Harry.

 Harry immediately backs off, thus expanding his arc of vision from where he can observe everything when the house elf has appeared.

«Master Harry has called Twinkie! What does Master Harry want?»

«When Alrus has the grace to visit me, please bring the tea. After this, you may be free». A bow, a pop, and the elf disappears.

Yeah, that’s definitely a magic!

Man, what does this elf do! The pop, and he appears; the pop, and he disappears! Though he’s still nasty.

Then nothing happens for long enough, and the young man begins to feel bored again, but he doesn't dare experiment again to see what else he can do besides instant movement with his power of thought.

As for Harry, having thrown back his head on the back of the seat, he has already dozed off. When there’s a knock on the door leading to the office, the man has twitched awake, and the young man has joyfully lifted in spirits. Without waiting for an answer, the visitor has opened the door, and immediately after it, there is a questionable exclamation,

«Father?!»

 «I’m here! On the loggia!»

There are footsteps, and then a figure of a man appears in the doorway. Above average stature, with a svelte physique, with hidden bestial grace in his every movement. A watchful, sharp look runs through the surrounding space, and the young man freezes for one second because black eyes linger at the place where he is now. The young man has a strong feeling that if he isn’t seen, then at least he is definitely felt.

Here his gaze lifts to the father, the delusion diminishes, and the young man, with increased interest, begins to observe them. Having looked at the father, he smiles slightly and says, with a low velvet voice,

«Good afternoon, father! How are you doing?»

«Good afternoon, Lord Prince! I’m fine.»

«What, is Twinkie still unwilling to give in? », the young man has asked, sitting down in the chair standing opposite his father, and a faint smile stirs his lips.

«Yes», a groan — «it continues: the Harry master and the second master, the Lord Prince. The main thing is how masterful it is at playing the dense fellow on this issue, so you can't really get angry at it.»

«I feel sorry!»,  with irony in his voice, and then seriously, «You called me, father, is something wrong?»

«Yes, and no.»

His son's left eyebrow has curved beautifully, making his father cheerfully smile, and then he slowly pours himself some tea, drinks it, and only after that says thoughtfully,

«To be honest, Alrus, I’m not entirely sure about the correctness of my decision to reveal my secret to you, and if I do open it, I have absolutely no idea where to start.»

«But isn’t it too late for you to ask this intimate question having called me to your place? And you should start from the very beginning, I think so.»

«Yes, you’re right; it’s too late to rush about», a short pause, and then a sigh. «Well, let’s start from the beginning. It started in your childhood, when you entered a non- magical school. It seems you saw your classmate’s laptop there and got enthusiastic about it, right?»

«Yes. It took me a long time to get you to buy it for me. I remember that for this, you had to create an artefact that shielded the laptop from the effects of magic.»

«And I fulfilled my promise I had made to you, and when the artefact was created, you and I went to a non-magical store and bought you a laptop. Then I naively thought that I was buying you an educational toy, but just a toy.»

«Yes, I know about it, father. And I decided that first I would master the laptop and learn more about it, and only then would I try to explain my idea to you through a visual example, so to speak.»

«You did it. I was shocked when you, an eight-year-old child, explained your idea to me, and let's say it wasn’t a bad one.»

«Of course it wasn’t bad! Because of its implementation, you became a famous artefactor and became rich because of orders. Did I miss anything?!»

«That's right, it's now that matters, isn't it?», Harry kept quiet for a moment, then continued, «The content of your proposal was this: instead of the usual pensive… let me remember how you delicately said so that wizards can look respectable when viewing memories.»

«No, it wasn’t like that, father», Alrus says, giving a laugh, «I said so that we would stop disgracing ourselves in front of non-mages even if they don’t know about us each time we look through memories, in such an uncomfortable position.»

«And how can we call them muggles», the father takes up a slack of memories, «if they watch films, not memoirs, snuggling down in their armchairs or sofas, and we are in the old fashion way ass up…»

«Hrmph, hrmph», Alrus has interrupted his father with a slight cough, «father, there is no need to repeat this ... at that time, I was a child and couldn’t always find the right expression.»

«Yes, you're probably right; I’ve got carried away. But you know that it was this expression from the lips of a child that made me imbued with this idea.»

«I didn’t know, but all this time I naively thought that only eloquence inspired you to do this», and they laughed amicably.

Ha-ha, Alrus is great! Keep on! I like him!

And I don’t like you!

I don’t like you either!

Ha-ha! How interesting! We are totally agree on this issue.

Having laughed off, the father and the son sit in silence for a while, each recalling something. On their faces now and then, repeatedly, appeared bright smiles.